Predator: The Sightless One
by Jack E. Jones
Summary: Inspired by The Blind Yautja as taught by Zatoichi by cobaltplasma. A short little story about one of the lesser known legends on the Yautja homeworld.


_Yautja Prime_

 _The Eastern Jungles_

 _10:45 p.m. (Earth Time)_

The night sky brightly illuminated the trees as the rain poured relentlessly down on the earth. There were few clouds, strangely, as one would expect in such a downpour. The sound of thunder boomed across the sky and flashes of lightning cracked it open, leaving behind a dazzling display that would leave a normal person hypnotized. Bottom feeders and other pests scurried away from the storm as it shook the trees and rattled the leaves. Any person who attempted to start a fire would find it in vain to do so and would be left shivering wet should they not find shelter quick enough. Then, they would slowly die of hypothermia if they are lucky enough to dodge hungry wildlife.

This, however, did not disturb him. Matter of fact, he almost welcomed it. He, alone, perched in a tree with nothing on but his pants, boots, and his utility belt wrapped around his waist. Using a small stone, he slowly sharpened his weapons; two swords he created himself in the style of a weapon brought to this planet by an Earth dweller. Slowly, he dragged the stone across the sharp edge over and over again. When he was finally satisfied, he tested the swords on his own thumbs. Without the slightest effort put into it, they produced two small cuts which he left alone. In triumph, he slowly stored his weapons back into their sheaths and listened to the rain fall again in a meditative state.

Again, he could not be disturbed. He could not see if there were any other Yautja in his vicinity. In truth, he could not see at all. It made him stand out from the rest of his kind. From birth, he was denied the most valued sense in his culture; sight. He had been born with no eyes or even eye sockets to store them. Yes, it made him stand out. His peers and elders either looked upon him with a sense of pity or would bully and pester him to no end. Because of his disability, he was denied the most sacred of all rites of passage; the Hunt. While his brothers searched the planet for their first kills, he alone was cut off from that which would make him a true warrior. While he, personally, had little interest in the hunt anyway, he could not deny that he felt a little embittered.

But what was taken away to him from birth was replaced by something else entirely. His hearing was acute, more so than any of his peers. Since birth, he knew this was his gift. He heard all things in the trees, on the ground, standing still, or moving at great speeds. At first, it was overwhelming. He couldn't stand the constant flow of sounds wherever he went. It was almost maddening. But, like his hearing, his foresight was extremely acute as well. He knew that this was his greatest strength and decided to use it to his advantage. Alone, he taught himself to use this gift and to exploit it to its utmost potential. In the meantime, his strength and agility increased as well. Now, he can move as fast, if not faster, than his peers. And since they underestimated him, he exploited this as well. Whenever an arrogant Yautja would try to bully him, he would guess their move and act accordingly. While it further alienated him from the rest of his kind, he didn't mind much. In fact, he enjoyed the isolation.

However, he was not without friends. One of the elders in his clan, one they called the Forge Maker, took to the boy with pity in his heart. He knew much about the Youngblood's situation as he, too, was handicapped. A prenatal defect left him with useless legs and left him stationary. Normally, people like him would be executed. However, from a young age he had a natural ability to create things of different nature, such as masks, guns and blades. Thus, they gave him the occupation of forging the weapons for those who were able bodied. After a scrap with some other Youngbloods, the Forge Maker sought the Blind One out and took him under his wing. Although his sight was taken from him, the Blind One learned quickly and voraciously. For many years, he learned about creating weapons and tools until he reached the level of expertise as his master. Long after the Forge Maker passed, the Blind One still visited his forge and continued his legacy.

What made him stand out amongst his kind, too, was his curiosity. During every hunt, he would follow in the shadows to see what kind of prey was abundant this time. He had witnessed many species that came to this planet; some were technologically advanced and intelligent, others not so much. He had also watched the infamous Serpents on many of his adventures, even having a few close encounters with them as well. He had witnessed many find their well-earned glory and watched many die a dog's death. Yet, he was not disturbed by any of the new species' that he encountered. He would study every one of them and, after every hunt, he would make a log of them in a journal just in case he encountered them in the future.

However, the most intriguing species that he had ever witnessed was the one they called Humans. These were the most interesting of the creatures he had encountered as they were both animal and something else. They were both capable of the most heinous acts yet at the same time still had honor and unfulfilled potential. Their craftiness was not matched by any of the others, even the most advanced life forms. One of his most intriguing encounters was with the same human that gave him the inspiration to craft his swords. This man was one they called a samurai, one that the rest of the humans gave high esteem to. The samurai survived longer on the planet than any of his companions, thanks to his intelligence and his skill on the battlefield. When he finally met his end, he died a glorious death at the hands of another Yautja after he had destroyed another with ease. After the battle, the Blind One crept quietly to the corpses and quickly scavenged whatever they had left. In doing so, he picked up the human's weapon.

When he returned to his lair, he carefully studied the sword. He drew the blade across his thumb and it easily spilled his blood. The blade itself was smooth and the design was spectacular. He was impressed and further curious behind the culture and creation of this weapon. This was where his fascination with the humans reached a fever pitch. Surely, there were more of these warriors that he could learn from. When one of the others had decided to travel to Earth in search of humans to hunt, he snuck aboard the ship they were traveling in and went with him. When they reached Earth, he immediately learned of the place the sword was forged; a peculiar island called Japan. Immediately, he stole a transport pod from the ship and set forth on his journey.

Once he reached Japan, he took to the shadows for he knew that he would be hunted should he be seen. Remembering his piece on his home planet, he immediately searched for a place where they were forged. After weeks of searching, he finally came across one. He knew from the sound of a hammer pounding against red hot steel that he had found the right place. For months in the shadows, he observed the men creating a replication of the sword that the fallen warrior once held. Though he could not see the actual process, the sounds of the tools and the flames told him each step. In his journals, he kept logs on every step so each time it was still fresh in his mind. In the meantime, he learned as much as he could about the culture of this fascinating island. He learned that Japan was an island of warriors and, like his kind, from birth they were trained to kill. He also learned that it wasn't just the samurai that were taught to kill. Even the lowly townspeople created weapons and ways to kill, albeit with stealth, a dishonorable method. They, too, had a sense of honor and they believed in the spirit of battle. The parallels between this place and his were so similar that he almost felt at home. Once the process was complete and his curiosity satisfied, he returned to his ship with a new start.

The Blind One eventually returned home. His newfound knowledge as his guide, he created his weapons. Day in and day out, he toiled over his project. It was not an easy job, as creating this type of sword was a two man process, but he found enjoyment out of every step taken. His first creation was a complete failure, but even that he took in stride. Finally, after months of work, he created his first perfect weapon. It was beautiful; sleek and sharp. It was longer than the one the Earth Dweller possessed, but because of his larger stature it suited him well.

When he first began to challenge others with his new sword, he beat them quickly and with ease. It seemed that he could not be beaten. However, once word got out that he was attacking other Yautjas, others immediately began to take interest. Some rather unscrupulous hunters swarmed him one night and beat him soundly. He couldn't take them on with one sword alone. They beat him within an inch of his life and nearly killed him had it not been for a call to hunt. This experience, however, did not compel him to quit. Rather, he decided to create another sword. Again isolating himself deep into his lair, he repeated the process until another sleek and beautiful sword was created. To keep his back protected, he inverted his grip on his weapons. He sought out the group that had beaten him and with little struggle he cut them down. After this incident, his reputation was solidified as the blind warrior and he was both vilified and admired by his kind.

That all had happened years ago yet, to the Blind One, it still rang fresh in his memory. Not as a painful reminder of his past, but a proud remnant of his accomplishments. Nowadays, the rest of the Yautja left him alone in his cave dwelling. No one visited him, except for the occasional Youngblood who would accidentally creep into his lair in search of his target. Usually, he would send them on their way with no more than a few bruises but the few who stayed to challenge him met a swift end. Occasionally, he had to move away and find a new dwelling, which proved frustrating at times. But, he never strayed too far from where the Youngbloods could be found.

As he left his meditative state, he heard a very violent rustling noise below him. The sound of panting was also heard and the footsteps were fast yet heavy. No doubt this was another human brought here to be hunted. Wherever there was a human, a Yautja was sure to be in tow. Keeping to the shadows of the trees, he listened to any noise the Hunter would eventually make. When he finally heard the sound of a shoulder cannon, he swiftly jumped through the trees to follow. This was his territory and his alone. No trespassers were allowed. And he would quickly make sure of that.


End file.
